It appears that that ‘shopaphobiaitis’, now assessed on Axis II in the American Diagnostic and Statistics Manual of Mental Disorders IV [DSM IV] has been the primary cause of deflationary pressures in world economies

The appeal to reason (Buy mor sh*t or we are all f*cked) for those suffering this disorder is to date the only intervention known to psychiatric practitioners although success rates in the early sample have been low.

They are aware of the phenomena and endorse the above message in the hope that it will prevent world economies slipping back into the age of barter as currencies become as valuable as leaves in autumn in the Amazon Rain Forest

This sort of attitude

is considered to have been one of the major contributors to the malaise now being felt by so many

I live with my mum. Always have done. I’m thirty three and see no reason to change. I’ve never worked, always odd-jobbed, for my mum, her friends, the neighbours, myself. I’ve got an allotment, a garden full of veg. Woodwork, painting, cooking, cleaning, clearance, lifting, shifting – you name it, I can do it. People pay me in old clothes, old appliances, odd necessities. There’s little I need and even less I want. When I left school I went to the job centre, applied for social security, told them everything. They said I’d have to turn myself into a business, become a self-employed odd-jobber and keep books. I didn’t go again. A neighbour had a hip operation, asked me to shop for her. I couldn’t go in couldn’t enter the supermarket. I tried – turned queasy, felt guilty, went home and looked up Internet shopping.

I was once a joyous shopper. I loved clothes, make up, nail extensions – the works.
I still do. But now I’m lurching between depression and near hysteria. I can’t go into shops.
My friends have tried physically forcing me in. I’ve tried alcohol, tranquillisers, hypnotherapy – but still can’t get through the door. I want a cure and I want it quick – my image is so last year and my nails are a mess!It was instant: I was in Primark and a voice in my head said,
‘Put down the blouse and back away from the clothes rail –
get out of the shop. Now!’